


Reminds Me of Childhood Memories

by sweetheart35



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 100/10, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I call bull, Losers club - Freeform, Male-Female Friendship, Misunderstandings, Non-Linear Narrative, Oops, a two-shot at best, also Stan/Pat?, but that didn't happen, gummy bears make an appearance, have some sickening fluff before I add plot, mainly because I don't have one, marked as complete, may add future chapters, post-rock fight, sleep-overs, this was meant to be complete, which may not happen for a while if i'm being honest, y'all make Stan hate Bev because Bill likes her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-03 00:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheart35/pseuds/sweetheart35
Summary: “Henry was lying,” she finally managed to force out, pleased with how firm her voice sounded. “I never…” She faltered over her words, cheeks burning a bright red, trying to say it without actually have to put the words out there. “...Never did anything with him. Or with anyone else.”“I know?” It sounded more like a question than a statement and Stan looked confused. Beverly took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for what she was going to have to say next.





	1. Chapter 1

“Here.” Beverly blinked up at Stan, not quite able to hide the surprise on her face. She was reclining on a rock, smoking, watching Eddie fuss over Mike while Bill, Richie and Ben stood as a sort of honor guard over them. Mike was looking slightly overwhelmed at the attention, insisting he was fine but Eddie wasn’t to be deterred and Bill didn’t look all that inclined to step in and put a stop to Eddie. Stan was holding a package of gummy bears out to her and he was determinedly staring to the side, his face slightly flushed.

“Um, thank you,” Beverly said, sitting up to carefully take the package from him. She didn’t think Stan particularly liked her. He had never objected to her presence in the group but when she had started hanging out with them, she had tried talking with Stan and he’d never been outright rude, but Beverly got the feeling she made him uncomfortable. After the third abortive attempt at a conversation, when she had sat down next to him and he had slid away from her by a good foot, Beverly had stopped trying. There were enough other people that there was always a barrier between her and Stan and they never had to interact. Beverly wasn’t sure if the others had even noticed. They were sweet boys, but they could be dense sometimes.

The seven of them had retreated to the quarry after the rock right, Richie, Eddie and Stan splitting off to go buy first aid supplies after they had all chipped in their money. Bill and Ben had shot her worried looks as they went, clearly worried about her reaction to Henry’s words, but Beverly had heard worse and neither of them brought it up.

“Um, here,” Beverly said, stubbing the cigarette out and digging in her pocket for the crumpled dollar she had left over, holding it out to him. Stan, who had been staring rather intently at the other boys, jerked his head back around at the sound of her voice.

“No,” he said, holding his hand up as if to ward her off. “I-it’s for you. It’s a gift.” The dollar hung in the air between them. Beverly felt her fingers go cold, her throat drying up, as she realized what was going on. She pulled the dollar back, blinking back tears rapidly building in her eyes. She _wouldn’t_ cry. Not now and not in front of the guys. But Bill had _told_ her that none of them believed the rumors about her and he hadn’t promised, exactly, but when Bill told you something you believed it because it was _Bill_.

Instead, she retracted the dollar slowly, putting it back in her pocket and instead holding the gummy bears back out to Stan. They were her favorite, and she wasn’t sure how Stan had known that, but she could admit it was one of the nicer ways she had been asked for some action. Which was sad considering all Stan had given her were some gummy bears.

“Stan...I don’t...I didn’t -” She began, stuttering over her words and Stan looked confused and maybe a little hurt as he looked between her and the gummy bears. Beverly didn’t _want_ to hurt Stan but she didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings between them. She wished almost desperately that one of the others would look over or interrupt or anything to break the awkward situation so Beverly didn’t have to deal with this, but none of them did. Even sweet Ben, who always seemed to know where she was and what she was feeling at any given second, was distracted by Richie and Eddie arguing loudly with each other over Mike.

“Henry was lying,” she finally managed to force out, pleased with how firm her voice sounded. “I never…” She faltered over her words, cheeks burning a bright red, trying to say it without actually have to put the words out there. “...Never did anything with him. Or with anyone else.”

“I know?” It sounded more like a question than a statement and Stan looked confused. Beverly took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for what she was going to have to say next.

“So asking nicely won’t...actually...work,” she continued, her words trailing off near the end and her voice getting smaller, what little confidence she had diminishing. Stan, however, finally seemed to realize what was going on and his eyes went round and they darted away from her face.

“N-no, Beverly -” It was his turn to stutter. It was also, Beverly noted, the first time she’d ever heard him say her name. “I w-wasn’t asking for...for _that._ ” He was staring fixedly at the ground beside her, his cheeks just as red as hers. “I don’t believe - I mean, I did...and my rabbi...I mean my dad...but I know now...and I shouldn’t have, anyway -” He couldn’t seem to stop tripping over his words, but Beverly seemed to know what he was trying say. She reached out and grabbed his hand and Stan jumped like he’d been electrocuted. She didn’t relinquish her grip though, tugging him down to sit beside her.

“Thanks,” she said, pressing a kiss to cheek and grinning as his face turned even more red. She ripped open the plastic, grabbing a few and tossing them in her mouth. She held the bag out to Stan in a silent offer. He gave her a tentative smile as he carefully pulled out a red bear. Bev couldn’t stop smiling as she and Stan watched Eddie shriek indignantly at Richie and Mike subtly try and pry his arm out of Eddie’s vice-like grip, passing the bag between them.

They were best gummy bears Bev had ever tasted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...this was just gonna be a one-shot...and then my hand slipped. Have a sleep-over.

When a stone rapped against his window close to midnight Stan wasn’t particularly surprised. Sometimes Richie came over when things got really bad his house and he didn’t want to stay there and sometimes it was Bill when the silence in his house got to be too much or on one memorable occasion, Eddie. Either way, Stan was well acquainted with at least one of his friends tossing stones up at his window after his parents had gone to bed. But it was almost always Richie or Bill

So when he stuck his head out the window and saw Beverly standing in his yard, nervously rocking from one foot to another, saying Stan was surprised was a bit of an understatement.

“ _Beverly?”_ He hissed, not quite able to keep the shock out of his voice. “ _What are you doing here?”_

“Shh!” She whispered, glancing at the other windows in the house anxiously, looking for a sign his parents had woken up. When the windows remained dark, she looked back to Stan. “I - um - I...I need a place to stay tonight.”

What.

“What?” Stan asked. “And you came here?” He then realized he was having this conversation hanging out his bedroom window and felt ridiculous. He and Beverly had been cautiously testing the waters with each other and Stan was honestly trying to be a better friend and if it was Richie or Bill, they would have already been up the tree and through his window. “C’mon. And be quiet. My parents will kill me if they find out I have a girl in my room.”

Beverly muttered something under her breath but swung herself up into the tree and shimmied across the branch to the roof. Stan stepped back so she could climb through and shut the window behind her. They stood in the dark awkwardly for a few minutes, looking at each other’s shadows, before Beverly spoke.

“Sorry,” she said and something in her voice sounded funny. Stan reached over and flipped the lamp by his bed on, throwing the room, and Beverly, in relief.

At once, Stan could tell she’d been crying. Her nose and eyes were red and Stan could see dried tear tracks on her face. Her hair was a little scruffy, like she had run to Stan’s house. The night outside was warm, but she was shivering slightly.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Beverly didn’t say anything further, but she didn’t really need to. Bill and Ben’s crushes on her were so obvious you could see them from space. Nobody went to Richie’s house when they needed somewhere to go. Mike was too far out of town for her to walk there safely at night, especially with what they knew about what was really happening and sneaking into Eddie’s house was like breaking into Fort Knox.

If, Stan thought belatedly, she even knew where any of them lived. As far as he knew, she’d only ever been to his house and that was just briefly so they could exchange comic books.

“It’s fine,” Stan said quickly. She still looked really upset and if it was Bill or Richie, Stan would just pass them some sleep clothes and they would slide under the covers and talk about the exact opposite of whatever the problem was until they fell asleep. Then in the morning, they would go downstairs and Mr. and Mrs. Uris wouldn’t say anything about the fact they had suddenly acquired another child overnight and just dish up an extra serving of pancakes. Stan wasn’t really sure what the standard procedure for comforting girls was.

“Do...do you want to talk about it?” He asked hesitantly. Bev shook her head quickly and Stan felt a small flash of relief and then an even smaller flash of guilt that she didn’t because Stan didn’t really know what kind of problems girls had but he didn’t know he didn’t know how to help with them.

“My dad just...gets to be a bit much at times,” she said. Stan didn’t press and instead turned to his drawers to pull out some extra sleep clothes. She was a little bit shorter than him, so he was pretty sure his things would fit her. He handed them to her and then slid out of the room so she could change. He padded to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under some cool water before heading back to his room and knocking quietly on the door, casting a glance at his parents’ door. The light remained off and a second later Beverly opened to the door he could slide back in.

“Here,” he said, handing the cloth over and looking her over. He was right that his clothes fit her, even if they were a little long. The hair band on her wrist, still present even after she cut her hair, was gone and Stan realized she had used to the tie the waistband of his pants to keep them from slipping. Her clothes were folded neatly on the window seat. She took the washcloth and gave him a confused look. “For your face.”

“Oh,” she said softly. She sat at his desk, running the washcloth over her face and as he watched, she seemed to relax as she cleaned her face off. When she was finished, she held it back out to him. Stan took it and tossed in the hamper. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said and turned to pull another blanket before settling on the floor and pulling the blanket over him. It was pretty uncomfortable. “Um...goodnight.”

“Stan...what are you doing?” Beverly asked. He looked up at her.

“Going to sleep?” It came out like a question. “You should, too. You look exhausted.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bed, Stan,” Beverly said. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s really comfortable,” he lied. Beverly gave him a flat look. Stan tried not to squirm.

“Stan, if we sleep on our sides the bed is big enough for us both,” she said. Stan sat up quickly, whipping his head to the side.

“No! No, Beverly, I’m fine, really. You should take the bed.” Beverly pursed her lips, staring at him consideringly.

“You won’t sleep on the bed because you’re a gentleman,” she said and Stan felt his face flush. “I’m the one imposing so I don’t want to make you sleep on the floor.” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this. A moment later, though, she slid down to lay next to him. “So I’ll sleep on the floor with you and neither of us will get the bed.” Stan opened his mouth to object before sighing in defeating and reached over her to pull the other blanket from his bed down and grab them both a pillow. Instead of getting up to turn the desk lamp back off, Stan grabbed the cord and yanked it from the socket. The room was plunged back into darkness

“Fine,” he muttered. There was a few moments of shifting before they were both settled under the blankets.

“Night, Stan,” Beverly said quietly. “Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“No problem,” Stan replied, just as quietly. “G’night.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time jump, y'all.

“You know,” Ben’s voice said dryly from behind them. “When I moved in with Bev, I didn’t realize I’d be moving in with you, as well, Stanley.” Stan and Bev both twisted around in their seats to watch Ben come down the hall into the kitchen.

“Morning, babe,” Bev chirped, craning her neck to accept the kiss he dropped to her lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Could’ve slept longer,” Ben rumbled, nuzzling her nose and straightening up. “Considering it’s eight-thirty in the morning on a Saturday.” He looked at Stan. “I’m not kissing you. Morning, Patricia.”

“Hey, Ben,” she greeted, hunched over a stack of papers, ignoring Stan’s mutter of ‘Fine by me’. “If it’s any consolation, when I married Stan, I didn’t know I was marrying Beverly.” She pointed to the counter. “There’s coffee if you want it.”

“You know, that does make me feel better,” Ben nodded. He poured himself of mug and brought the pot over to refill Patricia’s when she wordlessly held her mug out in request. “What are they doing?”

“Going over numbers for the business, I guess,” she answered. Ben made a noncommittal noise and took a sip of his coffee.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, closing his eyes in ecstasy. “Pat, I love your coffee. Divorce Stan and marry me instead, please. I’ll leave Beverly and we can run away to Barcelona.”

“Barcelona? Ben, you do know how to tempt a girl,” Patricia said. “You’ll have to sell it, though. What’s in Barcelona?”

“The Gothic quarter, La Sagrada Familia, Casa Vicens -”

“Architecture all done by Antoni Gaudí, his favorite,” Bev interjected. “Ben, I’m insulted you would leave me for coffee.” She leaned on the table, resting her chin in her hand, eyes twinkling.

“It’s not just coffee,” Ben protested. “It’s  _ Pat’s _ coffee.” Bev nodded, like this made sense and turned her attention back to Stan.

“Stop trying to poach my wife, Hanscom,” Stan said, not bothering to look up from the papers. “Here, this needs to be moved here, if you want to the get most out of that.” Beverly nodded, making a note on the paper. Ben settled down at the table across from them next to Patricia. She shuffled some of her papers out of the way to make room for him and he leaned over to see what they were.

“Book reports?” He asked, interested. “Which book?”

“ _ Island of the Blue Dolphins, _ ” she answered. “It was one of my favorites growing up so I felt that it was was necessary to be on their reading list. Teacher perks and all that.” Ben snorted, stretching his legs out and tangling them with Beverly’s under the table. She glanced up and smiled at him, running her foot along his leg briefly before returning her attention to whatever it was Stan was saying. Ben smiled back dopily. Patricia snorted beside him.

“You two are so sweet, it’s ridiculous,” she told him, her voice teasing. Ben blushed as he met Patricia’s gaze.

“Really?” He countered. “So it wasn’t you who knit a sweater for Stan that reads  _ Honey Bear _ on it that he  _ willingly _ wears?” He grabbed one of the book reports and began reading it over. Patricia handed him a pen and the rubric.

“If you’re going to read it, make yourself useful,” she told him.

“It is a warm sweater,  _ Benjamin, _ ” Stan cut in defensively, finally distracted from whatever it was they were doing to look up. Beverly looked up as well, grinning. “Don’t be jealous just because your girlfriend can’t knit.”

“Ouch,” Beverly said. “That hurt, Stanley.”

“No, it didn’t,” he shot back, but patted her shoulder anyway. Beverly looked at Ben.

“Ben, you gonna defend my honor here or what?” She asked.

“Beverly, I love you but you can’t knit for shit,” he said without looking up. “If you did knit me something, though, I would still wear it.”

“Ha,” Beverly said triumphantly to Stan, who rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter that I can’t knit, you jerk.” She stood up and flounced around the table, settling into Ben’s lap with a satisfied look on her face. Stan began gathering up the papers and putting them back into their folder.

“Still trying to take over the fashion industry?” Ben asked, kissing Beverly’s shoulder.

“Please,” Beverly sniffed. “I snatched up the best young accountant on the east coast. Victory is guaranteed.”

“I didn’t realize we were running a war campaign,” Stan said, amused and Beverly grinned.

“We are,” she said. “Ben’s going to be my spoil of war.” Stan laughed outright at the blush creeping up Ben’s cheeks.

“Ben’s going to combust before we manage the take over,” he told Beverly. Beverly, quite frankly, looked delighted with Ben’s embarrassment. Stan stood and moved around the table. Patricia’s eyes flicked up to him, watching him suspiciously. Stan smiled charmingly at her, leaned down to kiss her, catching her off-guard since Stan wasn’t typically one for public affection and scooped her up to sit her in her chair and settle in his lap. She squealed in surprise but settled easily enough once Stan was seated. Bev caught her eye and the two of them dissolved into giggles. Ben and Stan shot each other bemused looks.

All the losers had drifted apart when they had started college. It wasn’t until a chance meeting between Beverly and Stan in coffee shop a year and a half ago in Chicago while Beverly was struggling in fashion and Stan was attending a conference that the two had reconnected and stayed in touch. Less than three months after that, Beverly moved down to Atlanta to take Stan up on his offer of a couch and a place away from Tom until she could get on her feet and met Patricia, who was surprisingly accommodating about having a strange woman move in with her and her husband. Two weeks after that, bruises still fading, Beverly ran into Ben in the library while he was doing research on a new project. He’d start renting an apartment in Atlanta when he found out Beverly was living there. Six months later they’d moved in together.

Now, Stan thought, wrapping his arms around Patricia’s waist tightly and pulling her closer, he felt...not entirely complete, there was still something missing, but he felt content and right now, he would be happy with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I have a few in-progress stories I should really work on  
> Me to me: why don't you write something else for that completed work you have?

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else notice Stan's face while Henry is talking about Bev right before the rock fight? Because I did. 
> 
> Title taken from Sweet Child O'Mine by Guns N' Roses.


End file.
